


In the Elephant

by Vituperative_cupcakes



Category: League of Gentlemen (TV)
Genre: M/M, after the series end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 17:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vituperative_cupcakes/pseuds/Vituperative_cupcakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inside the elephant, Brian struggles to maintain his sanity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Elephant

Rough fingers find his chin, fumbling caresses in a parody of tenderness.

“You look just like 'im.”

Brian doesn't know who “he” is meant to be, if there ever was a “he” to begin with. All he knows now is that is lonely inside the elephant. They are packed like sardines, but they are all lonely still. They are lonely right next to each other.

“I could be so good for you.”

Charlie is the only one who has escaped the tragic loneliness, escaping into the warped corridors of his mind. He calls Brian “Tony” and gives him shoulder rubs.

It's been years, or months, or perhaps just the same long day. He can't think of Katie without tearing up. Had it been better when Katie's last words to him were 'I'm going round to the circus with the girls,' rather than ' _help me, Brian_ '? Had it been better, the bitter uncertainty, the nights alone in bed?

There isn't room to lay down within the elephant, but sometimes Brian wakes, not knowing when he'd fallen asleep, to find his head pillowed in the other man's lap. Softer than the bones. Well, mostly.

“It can be good between us, you know.”

Brian knows. There was something desperate to be loved within Charlie, something all-consuming and hungry, yet gentle. When Charlie touches him, it gets harder and harder to wriggle away.

“I know I could make you happy, Tony.”

Brian knows about love. He loved Katie so much he risked angering the most psychotic man he knew to court her. He remembered their clandestine dinners, commiserating over Geoff's peculiar brand of madness. One thing that had always united them was their fear of him, his hair-trigger temper, his desperation.

Charlie knew about desperation.

None of them can hear the crack of the whip, or that frightening golliwog's commands. Whoever Papa Lazarou was, _whatever_ he was, he made the elephant well. The only thing that came to them were the sounds of their own misery.

Charlie strokes up and down his arm, up and down, soothingly saying “It's all right, Tony, it's all right.”

A year or a month or a very long day in the elephant, Brian whips off his glasses and faces him.

“Brian, all right?” he says, “Brian. Not Tony.”

Charlie looks up at him with luminous blue eyes. He looks as if he might cry. “Charlie.” he swallows. “Not Dave.”

Brian fumbles for his fly as Charlie drops to the ground. The groaning pitches up an octave, but neither of them take heed.

In the elephant, Charlie pillows his head on Brian's abdomen. In the elephant, two men keep their sanity.

 


End file.
